Goodbye, Seri

People ask me how a life that ends at the age of six can possibly have meaning. Now I have an answer.

You did not really know me. But I knew you. I am the father of your sister's best friend. For over a year, since your original diagnosis, a lot of people that you hardly knew really, really wanted you to get better. We davened every day for you, mentioning you in the part of the shemonah esrei (prayers) where we ask God to cure the sick. We said Tehillim (Psalms), hoping as hard as we could that God would make you better.

While I spend most of my time being a doctor, I spend a lot of time thinking about how Judaism looks at life. I think about why people get sick and wonder what the Almighty wants us to do about all kinds of questions that come up in medicine. Grown ups call it medical ethics, but it is really nothing more than learning what the Torah has to say about medical problems that people have. It is not so different from the Torah your teacher was teaching your class before you became too sick to go to school.

I also spend time wondering what God is trying to tell us when people get sick. I particularly wonder how He wants us to understand when a five-year-old has to spend her days at the hospital instead of spending time on the playground with her kindergarten friends. People ask me how a life that ends at the age of six can possibly have meaning. I understand why they ask the question and I wonder if you also asked that question during the past year. You may not have understood what was happening, but the rest of us did.

And because we understood what was happening, we changed our lives. You were too little to know that people unfortunately get sick all the time, and sometimes they die. And we are very sad when that happens, but we usually don't do much about it. We mention them in our prayers and we add them to our mishaberach lists (the list of sick people who we specially mention in shul when we read from the Torah). We hope that they get better, but if they don't, we are sad and we move on.

The value of a life is not measured in years, but in the impact it has on others.

But when we found out that you were ill, our whole community changed, both the men and the women. We added Tehillim groups to say Psalms for your recovery. We learned Torah in your merit. We added special classes on lashon hara (the laws of gossip), hoping that if we became better people, maybe you would get better. I do not think you could have understood how hard it is to convince grown ups not to gossip or say mean things about people for just two hours each day, but people thought that it would be worth it if it might help you get better.

We realized that God was sending us a message, so we all starting doing extra mitzvot (commandments), all as a merit for you to get better. As you became sicker, we tried harder. We increased our chesed (acts of kindness), dedicated ourselves more to bikur cholim (visiting the sick), and gave more tzedakah (charity).

In the end, there will be some who will say that all of the extra mitzvot that were done for your sake did not help at all. They will think that it just shows that God did not care. But those of us who lived through the last year knowing how sick you were know better. We know the real answer to the question of how a life of only six years can have meaning.

A rabbi once told me that the value of a particular life might not be apparent to the one who is living that life. There are people who are so sick that they do not know what is happening around them, like what happened to you near the end of your short life. And the rabbi told me that people would say that such a life has no value since the sick person cannot appreciate it. But he also told me that the real value of that life might be in the impact that it has on the people around it. He told me that the increased number of mitzvot done by the people around the sick person may not always be apparent to us, and that we will never know the impact the ill person has had on others.

But that rabbi was not completely right. Now that your life is over, I can see the impact that your life had on others. I do not think that the shul would have cancelled a big event for just anyone's funeral. But who would have shown up at the shul instead of at your funeral anyway? How could all of those hours of Tehillim, learning Torah, and guarding our tongues not leave a permanent, lasting impact on each of us and on our community? Unifying a Jewish community is no easy trick.

So I guess that from now on, when people ask me how any life, even one that is cut tragically short, can possibly have meaning, I will have an answer. The value of a life is not measured in years, but in the impact it has on others. If the accomplishment of a person's purpose in life is calculated by how many individuals it helped to make into better people, then there is only one conclusion to be drawn. Some people live a long time, but don't accomplish much, and some people accomplish a whole life in six years.

Goodbye Seri.

Love,The father of your sister's best friend

Serach Dina bas Sholom Dovid died at the age of six on May 21, 2005, after her year-long battle with cancer. If you would like to contribute to a scholarship fund established in memory of Seri, please email Dr. Eisenberg at eisenber@pol.net.

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About the Author

Dr. Daniel Eisenberg is with the Department of Radiology at the Albert Einstein Medical Center in Philadelphia, PA and an Assistant Professor of Diagnostic Imaging at Thomas Jefferson University School of Medicine. He has taught a Jewish medical ethics class for the past 15 years. Dr. Eisenberg writes extensively on topics of Judaism and medicine and lectures internationally on topics in Jewish medical ethics to groups of all backgrounds. Obtain more information on scheduling a lecture or learning more about Jewish medical ethics by visiting Dr. Eisenberg at www.daneisenberg.com

Visitor Comments: 18

Danny, I didn't know you had it in you -- or, maybe I did :-)Thanks for inspiring me in many ways many years ago -- and again now!

Give my love to your wife.

Basya

(17)
Marissa,
July 12, 2005 12:00 AM

My Aunt has Cancer and we can't do much about it

My Aunt has cancer and we can't much of do anything about it. I see how it feels and how it hurts to just know Seri and be her friend it would be devestating. My Grandpa was in the hospitol for a couple weeks. I had to go see him there instead of waking up in the mornig, going down stairs and giving him a kiss he is getting better. He will get out on his birthhday

(16)
toni ely,
June 8, 2005 12:00 AM

Seba non small cell lung cancer for prayer

My beloved is fighting cancer now stage 3b non small cell lung he has had his first Chemotherapy then off three weeks then another chemo until tumor shrinks enough for radiation..my prayers aske cancer to be gone and for his son Alex who is 8 and his daughter 18 toprovide that positive mental attitude for Seba to keep the faith and fight with all he has. He is Native American Indian Seba Willismson, Jr. with love and frequent prayer may I ask for your help also...for Seba and his family...thank you CANCER BE GONE !!!

(15)
Merlock,
June 5, 2005 12:00 AM

Beautiful

Thank you, Dr. Eisenberg, for that beautiful story. Without a doubt little Seri's life was precious, to her community, her family and to the Almighty, and that so many people are touched by this story proves that we are all one in His Eyes. God bless Seri's soul, all who loved her and all humanity.

Merlock

(14)
erica sherman,
June 3, 2005 12:00 AM

~sigh~

What an outstanding, beautiful tribute to...life. I never knew Seri, may her memory be a blessing, nor do I know anyone connected with this story, but more than anything I've ever read on the Aish website, this clearly explained to me the powers of doing mitzvos and hesed and tzedaka and saying tehillim.
Thank you for writing words, which truly affected the part of me which is a skeptic, and giving me faith again.
To the family and friends: I'm so sorry for your loss.

(13)
Anonymous,
June 2, 2005 12:00 AM

dear rabbi as i read this story tears were alredy in my eyes even though i have not a clue of who seri even is

(12)
Anonymous,
June 1, 2005 12:00 AM

response to Rica's comment

As Seri's aunt, I would like to respond to Rica's comments on Dr. Eisenberg's article. I truly appreciate the fact that Rica identified with Seri as a person and not a "moral". While we often focus on the lessons we can learn when something unfortunate happens rather than the people behind the story, in Seri's case, our community genuinely set itself apart. The amount of ahavas chinam -- boundless love -- and chesed that we experienced personally this year was truly overwhelming. But, as Dr. Eisenberg said, we are very private people. The community was able to recognize this and go one step beyond - they knew how to give everything they had, even when it meant not giving. Our entire family, especially Seri, knew how much was done for her and for us. Seri was literally inundated with gifts and toys, to the extent that she even sent some to others whom she saw as less fortunate than herself.

It is ironic that these comments would have been directed at Dr. Eisenberg, when our family was in awe of the amount of chesed that he and his wife and children offered Seri. And they were not alone by any stretch of the imagination.
Those that were fortunate to know our beloved Seri were truly blessed. But please do not believe that Seri didn't feel blessed, as well. She loved her life and she loved those who surrounded her. She knew there was nothing that would not be done for her. She had an abundance of friendly faces, comforting hands, stories, and kisses. But she got them from her family and friends - those that she knew and wanted to be with. I don't know that a 5 year old would appreciate those things from strangers as much as an adult may.
So please take comfort in knowing that the relationship our community had with Seri was by no means a one-way street. The help they offered was selfless. They did not act to make themselves feel better – they acted for Seri, and they were extremely careful not to intrude on a very personal and difficult time for us.
Thank you for being concerned on Seri's behalf.

(11)
Baruch Kastner,
May 31, 2005 12:00 AM

On the meaning of a life and an afterlife

Dr. Eisenberg touched on many important facets of the impact a short life can have on untold numbers of people. I believe it is our job in this world to figure out what it is that we are destined to do here. This is not an easy task as many of us may in fact not come up with a definitive answer. If G-d sees that we did not accomplish what we were supposed to do, or only partially succeeded, He gives us other chances in a different life/gilgul. Rav Chaim Vital, the disciple of The Ari Hakadosh, retold a story of a woman who was left a widow at a young age after having 7 children together. She cried for two years and was not open to be consoled by anyone. One evening she had a dream that she was escorted to the Garden of Eden, where she watched as her husband was finishing up giving a Torah class. When given the opportunity to speak with her husband, she asked him why he left her at such an early age. He then explained that in a previous lifetime he was a great scholar, so great that he devoted all of his time and energy to Torah study and teaching. He passed away at a ripe old age and when he reached heaven, he was given the opportunity to become the chief rabbi of Gan Eden. But before they conferred the title on him, someone pointed out that he was never married and did not raise a family. In order to become the chief rabbi he had to return to our world, get married and have children. So the scholar agreed to do so and selected his wife accordingly. After their seventh child, the people who were already in heaven were anguishing that their precious rebbe was away from heaven for too long and starting begging for his return. And so, seeing that he accomplished his goal on earth, he was summoned back to Heaven to take up his new post. He further explained to his wife that she should not mourn any longer, she should re-marry, and that they will one day re-unite as soulmates in olam habah, the World to Come.
This story is the kind of perspective we need to be giving to people who tend to make the mourning more about the feelings of the ones left behind than about the one who was deceased. In my psychotherapy practice in Jerusalem, I stress the importance of learning about our purpose here and taking a hard look at what our traditional sources and the wider scientific community teaches about what happens to us in the afterlife. I have compiled alot of words of inspiration on this topic and now have Dr. Eisenberg's story to add to the collection. Thank you.

(10)
Aura Slovin,
May 31, 2005 12:00 AM

......a precious gift from G-D

Thank you Dr. Eisenberg for your insightful, touching and warm portrait of a 'child taken from our midst'

As a Pediatric Nurse for over 26 years I have unfortunately seen children succumb to illness and injury. Whether it was after a long illness, or a sudden tragic accident a child to pre-decease a parent is a tragic affair all around.
However I once heard an accounting of a friend who paid a shiva call to the Mother of a young girl who while riding in the family car - was killed when the car went off the road. No one else in the car was injured. The Mother stated, "My daughter was a precious gift from G-D....I was lucky to be chosen to be the mother of such a precious Neshama (soul)for reasons I do not understand right now...her job was completed - I will one day be re-united with her when Moshiach comes and so I will pray with all my might for Moshiach to come right now!!!!

When we hear stories of loved ones being taken suddenly and especially children - it motivates me to look around at those I am closest to with new found appreciation for the special 'souls' they truly are and to not take even one moment with loved ones for granted.

May Serach Dina's Parents and Family be comforted among the mourners of Zion in Jerusalem - and may they be re-united with Seri upon Moshiach Tzidkeinus arrival....may he come speedily in our times!

(9)
Anonymous,
May 31, 2005 12:00 AM

Very beautiful, powerful and moving

I am so sorry for the loss of Seri, obviously a very special person who contributed so much to those around her. The article was very beautiful, powerful and moving...thanks so much.

(8)
Miryam,
May 31, 2005 12:00 AM

Thank you for this wonderful article

Dr. Eisenberg, thank you for this article. I found it very moving and educational. May the Almighty Bring Shalom, strength and comfort to Seri's family. Every life has a special meaning in this world, whether the person had a long or very short life.

(7)
Rica,
May 31, 2005 12:00 AM

What have you done lately?

While the article was moving about what the
community did to better itself, what did your community do to better Seri's final days? You say that she probably didn't know you - well why
not? Why not have all those study groups do something FOR Seri instead of question why this was happening and what could be done remotely? What happened to visiting the sick? A misheberach isn't enough!
I spent the past year teaching my students that Judaism believes in actions and not words. That Judaism judges a person by what they do
outside of the congregation, not just how many times you come to shul to pray. Go to minyan 3 times a day, but rob a bank, that doesn't make you
a chassid, it makes you a felon.
I also taught them about the fact that being part of a chevre kedisha is one of the greatest mitzvot because you do for someone else what they can never repay.
Well, here, it would appear, that your congregation missed a HUGE opportunity to do for Seri what she could never repay - care for her and
guide her hands on - not remotely from the comfort of study groups and "I'll better myself for her". I'm sure that to a 6-year old, a friendly face, a comforting hand, a gentle kiss on the head, a lullaby, a story or a smiling bear to cuddle would have meant much more to her.
So before you try and find meaning in someone else's passing, perhaps you should try and find meaning in the child. She was a person, not a
parsha - not a moral of a story. But a child.

THE AUTHOR RESPONDS:
Dear Rica,
While your comments are well-intentioned, do you not think it somewhat presumptious to assume that nothing was done for Seri herself? Doing things for Seri was the easy part. She had tremendous support from her kindergarten friends even when she came to school (when she could) very sick.
Everyone constantly offered to help the family and Seri, and more help was offered than could possibly have been accepted. The goal in the last year was to try to make the child's life as normal as possible, not turn her into an object of pity. The family is very private and accepted as much help as they were comfortable with.
That was not the issue. The reason that Seri did not really know me was that there was no reason for her to have beyond my being the father of her sister's best friend. Five year olds do not need mass bikur cholim as much as friends to play with.
The issue for many of us was what can we do to change ourselves. Judaism teaches that "kal Yisroel aravim, zeh l'zeh" ("all of Israel are
intertwined with each other"). The actions of Jews impact the lives of other Jews. The article dealt with how the community AS A WHOLE responded to Seri's illness.
Thanks for writing,
Daniel Eisenberg, MD

(6)
Leah Abramowitz,
May 30, 2005 12:00 AM

The other end of the spectrum

Your article actually made me think of another aspect of THE age old question: what's the purpose of all this suffering. As a medical social worker in a geriatric ward for many years, and one who works a lot with chronically ill patients, whether mentally or physically, I've often helped people grapple with the dilemma "Why do people linger on, sometimes for years, even in a vegetive state, bringing nothing but misery and pain to their near and dear ones.
What you said about the community reactions and the general efforts to do better in response to Seri's illness, can also be said on the individual level. I'm overwhelmed and truly awed by the devotion, the dedication and the self sacrifice that I sometimes see as family members (and sometimes hired help too) look after bed ridden or demented elderly, and I feel that their example makes us and them better people. The purpose of life, it seems, is not as the United States Constitution promises, the pursuit of happiness, but rather to do good, serve others and be an "avid naaman" (a loyal servant) of G-d.
Well done.

(5)
Anonymous,
May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

How can a life that ends at age six not have meaning?

What more is there to say?

How can a life that ends at age six not have meaning?

(4)
Dana K. Schwartz,
May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

This wonderful article started my tears a day early, for tomorrow will be the one year anniversary of my beloved father's death. In his 92 years of life he will always be remembered for the impact he had on other people lives. His kindness, caring, generousity, selflessness, love of life and every person and animal he ever met will live on forever in our hearts. I was blessed to be his daughter and only hope that my life will be thought of in the same way his still is.

(3)
Brian,
May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Beautifully Written

This article was beautifully written. The message, "The value of a life is not measured in years, but in the impact it has on others" has a great amount of power which stirs, at least mine, the senses. It leaves a great impact on the reader. Kol Hakavod!

(2)
Anonymous,
May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

We live in far rockaway and were very touched by this whole story. We are neighbors with a close childhood friend of Seri's parents and although we did not know her at all, her short but meaningful life definitely had an impact on us. Her petira has an impact as well because while davening, I find myself still saying her name for a refua shelaima. When I catch myself, I am reminded to concentrate better and not just say things out of rote.

(1)
Lenore Roberts,
May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

this is for Dr. Eisenberg...

Dear Dr. Eisenberg,
Having just read your touching piece about Seri, I should like to share this memory with you. It must have been about 1969, my parents had recently died and there were other deaths among family and friends, a sad and difficult time for our family, especially the children. Our son Joshua, then just eight years old, asked me how long people live. I answered that most people live fairly long lives as his dear and wise grandmother used to say "look around and see all the old people, most of us live to be, as promised, at least 70. But some live much much longer and a few not nearly long enough." "wrong!" said Joshua as he stormed out of the room. A few minutes later he returned and said "mom, everyone lives forever it's just that we each have our own forever."
I look forward to attending your Bala Cynwyd class in the near future. Lenore Roberts

I just got married and have an important question: Can we eat rice on Passover? My wife grew up eating it, and I did not. Is this just a matter of family tradition?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

The Torah instructs a Jew not to eat (or even possess) chametz all seven days of Passover (Exodus 13:3). "Chametz" is defined as any of the five grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye) that came into contact with water for more than 18 minutes. Chametz is a serious Torah prohibition, and for that reason we take extra protective measures on Passover to prevent any mistakes.

Hence the category of food called "kitniyot" (sometimes referred to generically as "legumes"). This includes rice, corn, soy beans, string beans, peas, lentils, peanuts, mustard, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. Even though kitniyot cannot technically become chametz, Ashkenazi Jews do not eat them on Passover. Why?

Products of kitniyot often appear like chametz products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chametz). Also, chametz grains may become inadvertently mixed together with kitniyot. Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot were prohibited.

In Jewish law, there is one important distinction between chametz and kitniyot. During Passover, it is forbidden to even have chametz in one's possession (hence the custom of "selling chametz"). Whereas it is permitted to own kitniyot during Passover and even to use it - not for eating - but for things like baby powder which contains cornstarch. Similarly, someone who is sick is allowed to take medicine containing kitniyot.

What about derivatives of kitniyot - e.g. corn oil, peanut oil, etc? This is a difference of opinion. Many will use kitniyot-based oils on Passover, while others are strict and only use olive or walnut oil.

Finally, there is one product called "quinoa" (pronounced "ken-wah" or "kin-o-ah") that is permitted on Passover even for Ashkenazim. Although it resembles a grain, it is technically a grass, and was never included in the prohibition against kitniyot. It is prepared like rice and has a very high protein content. (It's excellent in "cholent" stew!) In the United States and elsewhere, mainstream kosher supervision agencies certify it "Kosher for Passover" -- look for the label.

Interestingly, the Sefardi Jewish community does not have a prohibition against kitniyot. This creates the strange situation, for example, where one family could be eating rice on Passover - when their neighbors will not. So am I going to guess here that you are Ashkenazi and your wife is Sefardi. Am I right?

Yahrtzeit of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (1194-1270), known as Nachmanides, and by the acronym of his name, Ramban. Born in Spain, he was a physician by trade, but was best-known for authoring brilliant commentaries on the Bible, Talmud, and philosophy. In 1263, King James of Spain authorized a disputation (religious debate) between Nachmanides and a Jewish convert to Christianity, Pablo Christiani. Nachmanides reluctantly agreed to take part, only after being assured by the king that he would have full freedom of expression. Nachmanides won the debate, which earned the king's respect and a prize of 300 gold coins. But this incensed the Church: Nachmanides was charged with blasphemy and he was forced to flee Spain. So at age 72, Nachmanides moved to Jerusalem. He was struck by the desolation in the Holy City -- there were so few Jews that he could not even find a minyan to pray. Nachmanides immediately set about rebuilding the Jewish community. The Ramban Synagogue stands today in Jerusalem's Old City, a living testimony to his efforts.

It's easy to be intimidated by mean people. See through their mask. Underneath is an insecure and unhappy person. They are alienated from others because they are alienated from themselves.

Have compassion for them. Not pity, not condemning, not fear, but compassion. Feel for their suffering. Identify with their core humanity. You might be able to influence them for the good. You might not. Either way your compassion frees you from their destructiveness. And if you would like to help them change, compassion gives you a chance to succeed.

It is the nature of a person to be influenced by his fellows and comrades (Rambam, Hil. De'os 6:1).

We can never escape the influence of our environment. Our life-style impacts upon us and, as if by osmosis, penetrates our skin and becomes part of us.

Our environment today is thoroughly computerized. Computer intelligence is no longer a science-fiction fantasy, but an everyday occurrence. Some computers can even carry out complete interviews. The computer asks questions, receives answers, interprets these answers, and uses its newly acquired information to ask new questions.

Still, while computers may be able to think, they cannot feel. The uniqueness of human beings is therefore no longer in their intellect, but in their emotions.

We must be extremely careful not to allow ourselves to become human computers that are devoid of feelings. Our culture is in danger of losing this essential aspect of humanity, remaining only with intellect. Because we communicate so much with unfeeling computers, we are in danger of becoming disconnected from our own feelings and oblivious to the feelings of others.

As we check in at our jobs, and the computer on our desk greets us with, "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Today is Wednesday, and here is the agenda for today," let us remember that this machine may indeed be brilliant, but it cannot laugh or cry. It cannot be happy if we succeed, or sad if we fail.

Today I shall...

try to remain a human being in every way - by keeping in touch with my own feelings and being sensitive to the feelings of others.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...